


Night-watch

by Allekha



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Cooking, Exhibitionism, Future Fic, Hair-pulling, Jealousy, M/M, Pining, Post-Canon, consensual voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:24:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22610161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Allekha/pseuds/Allekha
Summary: Yuri stays over at Victor and Yuuri's apartment and wakes up to find them kissing in the hallway.
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov/Yuri Plisetsky
Comments: 21
Kudos: 163
Collections: Chocolate Box - Round 5





	Night-watch

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pleurer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pleurer/gifts).



"You should come to our place for dinner!" Victor suggests in the locker room after training is done for the day, his voice as bright as the summer sunshine outside the rink. When Yuri makes an uninterested noise, more focused on shoving all of his things into his bag – Yakov keeps scolding him about leaving stuff in the locker room, and it's getting annoying – Victor adds, "You can cook!"

Yuri rolls his eyes. "You mean you want me to make your dinner for you."

"Your cooking _is_ delicious," says Victor, the compliment falling easily from his lips. He says it as though Yuri can't tell that he's trying to persuade him. "We'll eat whatever you like – you can choose."

It's been a long day, and part of Yuri just wants to go home and read his phone through a quiet dinner with Lilia and Yakov and curl up in bed with Potya. But on the other hand, Victor means 'whatever' when he says 'whatever', and that can be fun. Yakov and Lilia will try most of the new dishes he makes, but they aren't as adventurous as Victor and Yuuri are – they still haven't come around to the katsudon pirozhki, though they split one every time he makes them like they aren't quite sure what to think about them.

"My grandpa did give me a cookbook for my birthday," he says. "Haven't had a chance to try anything in it yet."

"Great!" says Victor, and then he's springing up to, probably, go find Yuuri. The only time the two of them aren't utterly inseparable is when they're fighting, and even then there's secret looks across the rink and all of that kind of quiet drama that makes Yuri want to bash their heads together. He almost has, a few times over the past couple of years. How they can't figure out how to just solve their problems by now is beyond him.

Today, though, Victor clings to Yuuri's arm when they step outside. They walk Yuri to Lilia's place, where he picks up the cookbook and drops a change of clothes into his backpack in case he feels like sleeping over, and then they go grocery shopping together. Yuuri and Victor do the carrying; even with their hands full, they manage to be gushy with each other, smiling and bumping shoulders as they chat with Yuri. It's annoying, not because they're being weird but because it feels like they're mostly paying attention to each other even when they're talking to him.

They split apart when they get to Victor and Yuuri's apartment. Yuuri starts to put the groceries away, while Victor coos over Makkachin before taking her out for a walk. Yuri flicks through the cookbook, looking for something good.

He's not used to using cookbooks; usually he looks stuff up on his phone, if he needs to. Maybe his laptop. But he remembers helping his grandpa in a kitchen darker and more stained than this one, remembers looking things up for him in his old cookbook with the slightly yellow pages. This book isn't like that one at all; its pages are glossy and smooth, like a magazine, with full-color pictures and instructions that give every single detail.

Suddenly, Yuri doesn't feel like being adventurous at all. He picks a simple summer salad and a cold soup, things that are healthy and should have enough protein, and starts rooting around in the grocery bags while Yuuri is still putting things in the cupboards.

"Do you want any help?" Yuuri asks when he's done, before Yuri can demand assistance from him anyway.

Cooking with Yuuri is nice. He knows how to handle a knife better than Victor does, and sometimes he shares Japanese recipes that he's asked his dad for. He doesn't laugh the same way as Victor if Yuri bosses him around, though sometimes, like today, he gets a kind of patronizing smile on his face that Yuri hates. Like Yuri is a kid yelling above his pay grade or something.

"Stop that," he growls as he passes Yuuri another cucumber to slice.

"Stop what?"

"That _face_."

Yuuri does stop, in that it turns into a real smile. "What face?"

"Ugh. Never mind."

Yuuri bumps his side, the way he was doing with Victor earlier, and some of Yuri's annoyance from the teasing melts away. "Do these go in now?" he asks, and when Yuri nods, Yuuri presses into his side to dump them into the soup pot, taking his time to scrape everything in.

It's too warm in here. Good time to have cold soup.

~!~

Yuri doesn't feel like walking back, so he stays. Yuuri recently bought a new game, and Yuri drops down onto the couch to watch him – it's single-player, so there won't be any battles between them on the living room carpet tonight. Victor sits next to Yuri, and Makkachin immediately jumps into his lap. There's no room left, so Yuuri sits on the carpet, leaning against the couch, and starts to decide whether or not his character should wear glasses.

"It's too bad you won't cook for us every day," Victor says. He takes one of Makkachin's floppy ears in each hand, saying, "It was delicious, Makkachin!"

She sticks her tongue out. Even after the bun incident, she hasn't learned that human food is not dog food, and she spent half of dinner trying to poke her nose into what was on the table. Potya, on the other hand, only ever tries to steal Yuri's yogurt. This is why cats are better pets.

"Maybe if you'd pay for me to be your private chef," Yuri says, kicking Victor's foot until it's no longer in his way.

"We'd pay you in room and board," Victor says. Yuri makes a face at him. Like he'd want to live here. Sure, Yuuri and Victor are more fun than Lilia and Yakov, and less likely to nag him about cleaning up, and Victor's apartment is better since Yuuri moved in. Not any more messy, but somehow more lived-in, in a way that Yuri can't quantify beyond a few new knickknacks on the shelves and cheerier pictures on the walls. Still, he's not going to stand for being the third wheel around Yuuri and Victor being all over each other all day, every day.

He turns back to Yuuri's game and suggests that he go for the cool hairstyle. Yuuri selects it, but ignores him when he says the leopard-print outfit is the most fashionable one. Like always. Nobody else at the rink seems to get it.

At some point, Yuuri keeps taking too long to actually read the quest text boxes instead of skipping through them, and bored, Yuri pulls out his phone. Victor's snuck a photo of the two of them cooking onto social media, which is being hailed as 'omg so adorable' and 'too pure, too wholesome' by weirdo fans for some reason. The site informs him that Otabek's private account has liked it.

It is a nice photo. Victor's been taking photography tips from Phichit, and he caught them at a moment when they were both smiling over something, bent close together over the cutting board. In fact, they're smiling at each other. The picture captures the warmth of the kitchen, filled with light and hot from the stove to their side. Yuri scrolls past it, then scrolls back up and stares at it for another minute. He doesn't know why it fascinates him so much – it's not like he doesn't have other, more interesting photos of him and Yuuri – but he saves it.

He looks up at the game whenever Yuuri does something interesting. When he starts to struggle during a boss fight, Yuri calls out advice and encouragement that makes Victor's shoulders shake with mirth. "Shut up," Yuri finally snaps at him. "I'm helping."

"I'm sure you are – oh, look! That's good, right?"

Relief sinks Yuuri's tense shoulders when he gets in one last spell that defeats the boss, and even from an angle, the smile that briefly spreads over his face is bright. Then it's back to the same intense concentration he has every day at practice. Yakov barely ever has to yell at _him_ to get back to work.

At some point, Makkachin gets tired of being an oversized lap dog and wriggles out of Victor's hold. "Makkachin," Victor whines, but she steps down to the carpet, noses at Yuuri's shoulder, then crosses in front of him and plops back down at his side, out of Victor's reach. Yuuri absently pets her while he reads yet another dialogue box.

More room for him, at least. While Victor mopes, Yuri stretches out his legs, looking at his phone again. He only has a moment to take in Georgi's latest embarrassing public love-letter to his girlfriend before Victor is dragging him up the couch by the arm. "What are you doing?" he demands, trying to jerk out of Victor's grip while not dropping his phone.

"Since _someone_ has abandoned me, I need someone to keep me warm."

"It's _summer_ ," Yuri points out, kicking at Victor's shin. It doesn't keep Victor from laughing and pulling him into his side. "Besides, your boyfriend is right there."

"He's busy doing very important work," says Victor.

"Yuuri!"

"I'm learning how to swim so I can save the kingdom from the evil sea-dragon," Yuuri says. Yuri can't see now, but he bets he's smiling again. "Keep Victor warm for me?"

Yuri groans. Victor chuckles, and his grip loosens so he can drape an arm around Yuri's shoulders. It's not restrictive at all; he could easily escape if he tried.

He doesn't, though. It's not really bad, and if Victor's sitting with him, then he's less likely to try and gets handsy with Yuuri and distract him from his game. And it is a cool game, especially once Yuuri discovers the tribe of underwater cat people, though it would be better if he could play as one of them.

After a while, Victor starts to play with the ends of Yuri's hair where it dips below his shoulder. He's not half-bad at braiding it, when Lilia isn't there, but this isn't a show and he's not braiding it. Yuri gives him a look.

"It's a mess today," Victor says, and he rakes his fingers over it, once. Yuri can feel his fingernails, and he can feel a spark under his scalp, and he jerks with the hard, involuntary shiver that the sensation gives him.

"It's fine," he says, brushing Victor's hand away until it settles back on his shoulder. The odd feeling in his skin takes a while to fade.

People keep asking Yuri about his hair, have since his first season as a senior, if he's going to grow it or cut it anytime soon. Even Yuuri's asked a couple of times. Either way invites too many Victor parallels. He kind of likes it at this length, anyway. Not long enough to be a pain, not too short to braid.

Victor, at least, never asks him about it. Only touches it when he think it's not perfect enough for things like sitting around watching someone play video games.

~!~

Yuri doesn't mean to fall asleep on Victor's couch, but he's tired from practice and full of food, and Yuuri's voice as he talks about his game lulls him to sleep without him noticing. He starts awake and isn't sure at first what's happened, why he was asleep or why he woke up.

Maybe he woke up for no reason at all, he thinks after a moment, rubbing his eyes in the dark. If it's dark, it must be late, at this time of year. He reaches out, trying to find his phone, but then he hears a noise.

The lights are out, but they've left the curtains open somewhat, and the bright, silvery moonlight falls across the hall when Yuri pokes his head above the back of the couch. It's just Yuuri and Victor, standing there, or at least it looks like they're standing there before his eyes adjust a bit more and he realizes that they're kissing.

Victor's pinned against the wall by Yuuri, and Yuri stares as they part, come together, part again, surprisingly quiet. He can hear them breathing, hear the soft noises of their kisses, and he should stop watching and flop back to the sofa and cover his ears, or maybe yell at them to take it into their room even though it's their apartment, but.

But something gives him pause. Maybe it's the way he can just barely see Victor practically begging for another kiss whenever Yuuri pulls away, tilting his head and pushing forward; maybe it's the way Yuuri's hands are wound into Victor's hair, possessive, not letting him move too much; maybe it's the hot, white thing that the scene sparks in Yuri's stomach.

It feels something like the anger he gets when Victor's being air-headed or forgetful, and it feels something like the jealousy of watching him land his flip or seeing Yuuri simply glide with smoothness and speed Yuri can't yet reach, and maybe it's one or the other or both or just lust. Fuck if he knows; it's some kind of tangled ball that leaves him stock-still, watching despite himself, suddenly taken with the way Victor moves his head when Yuuri kisses his neck.

There's the barest whisper of a sound; it hardly reaches Yuri's ears. He knows what it is, anyway. One of Victor's _Yuuri_ s, the u drawn out as long as possible. Victor does it to tease and he does it out of affection and, apparently, he also does it when he's begging Yuuri for – something. Maybe another kiss, because Yuuri straightens and gives him one, so long and deep that Yuri can't believe they don't need to breathe during it. It sparks the heat in him a second time, especially when Yuuri pulls his fingers through Victor's hair and grabs at it again, harder.

Victor visibly closes his eyes at that. Yuri wonders if it feels like Victor's touch on his scalp did, earlier, except more. It's a good thought.

When Yuuri's lips drop to Victor's throat once more, his head lolls away, towards Yuri, letting him see Victor's expression. His eyes squeeze shut, his mouth opening and then shutting firmly, before his eyes blink open again. Yuuri might be doing something to his neck; it's hard to see from over here.

Yuri's looking too closely at Victor's neck, trying to see what it is that Yuuri is doing that has Victor making those faces. He forgets to quietly duck out of view before Victor's gaze snaps to his.

Yuri swallows and freezes, his hand clutched in the fabric on top of the couch. He's not doing anything wrong, exactly, though it feels like it – it's not his fault if the two of them can't make it another five steps to their bedroom. They know he's sleeping there. Someone brought him a blanket. He's not watching them on purpose. He can lay down and ignore them. He can. They can go somewhere he can't see them if they don't want him to catch a glimpse.

Victor stares at him for a long moment. Yuuri definitely bites, or sucks, or something, because his eyes squeeze shut again, and Yuri can see him catching himself before he gasps aloud. His fingers make the fabric of Yuuri's shirt twist in his grip.

When Victor's eyes re-open, he gives Yuri a _look_ , and it's hard to tell for sure in the dark, but Yuri thinks it's smug, his lip curling on one side.

Oh, fuck him. So what, he's so proud of himself and Yuuri? Yeah, sure, they look amazing, they're so successful, they have sponsors beating down their doors, they love each other so much that they're insufferable when they have to be apart, and they probably have a great time in bed every night. He doesn't have to prove it and Yuri doesn't have to watch.

Yuri is totally about to lay down and pretend they aren't there and ignore his throbbing cock (or at least try getting off to something else) when Victor bends his head down and there's another soft noise, whispering that Yuri can't hope to be able to make out.

Yuuri goes still while Victor whispers, and Yuri's stomach drops – Yuuri's the one who's more shy about explicit affection out of the house, though he sure likes to show their attachment in other ways. (Which is why he should take it to their fucking room, since Yuri is _right here._ ) Ways like dragging Victor around by his lanyard at competitions or telling Victor to retie his skates in full public view. Stuff that makes it clear their great sex is probably kind of kinky, but it's not like they're making out in the kiss-and-cry.

But after Victor finishes, Yuuri uncurls, his hand re-grasping in Victor's hair and shoving his head back, and he shoves himself up and against Victor. Victor lets him. More than lets him; he melts into it, sending more heat into Yuri's stomach alongside his relief, and how is he supposed to look away from how hard Yuuri's fingers grip or how desperately Victor clutches at him?

When Yuuri slides his hands up Victor's shirt, Yuri copies the movement on himself, as quiet as they are, and they don't disappear into their room. Yuuri knows – Victor would tell him – and Yuri wonders for a moment why Yuuri's okay with him seeing this.

The two of them are too distracting, though, and he watches Yuuri pull away and haul Victor to the other side of the hall – incidentally, closer to Yuri – and then push at his shoulders.

Victor, Olympic champion, winner of everything in their sport, so-called god of skating, Victor who talks back to Yakov and the federation and even the ISU, that one time, lets Yuuri push him all the way down to the floor until he's kneeling in front of him.

If that isn't hot, Yuri doesn't know what is; he shoves a hand between his legs, rocking into the pressure. He almost has to bite his tongue to make sure he stays silent.

Victor doesn't waste any time; he undoes Yuuri's belt and then pulls down the zipper of his jeans – Yuri can't quite see but that movement of his head has to be him undoing it with his teeth, like he's starring in porn or something. It makes Yuri want to roll his eyes, but the way Victor glances up at Yuuri makes up for it. It's got to be an amazing sight – he can just imagine Victor's eyes, serious and wanting, framed by his pale eyelashes.

Yuuri pushes Victor's fringe back, hand sliding along his head. Victor takes a moment to nuzzle against Yuuri before he's pushed back into place. The angle they're at now doesn't give Yuri the perfect view, with Victor's head blocking most of what he's doing, but Yuri can guess easily enough, especially when Victor's head dips.

Yuuri shudders. He almost loses his grip on Victor, but not quite, and his eyes flutter.

"Victor," he murmurs, soft, his accent audible toward the end of it, and Victor shivers just from that, from having his name said like that, in a tone that Yuri's never heard before. It's hard to blame him. Yuri's almost shivering and it's not his name. (If Yuuri said his name like that, it would sound—)

He shifts against his hand, trying to stay quiet as Victor swallows Yuuri down and starts to move his head, slowly. Yuri swears he hears him hum, but the noise is gone as soon as it started, and he doesn't do it again.

As far as Yuri can tell, Yuuri isn't very demanding, letting Victor set the pace. Yuri wishes he could see better, could see what Victor's doing properly. See if he's using his hands at all, see what he's doing with his tongue, what his face looks like when he's doing this.

At least he can see Yuuri's, the twitches that pass across it. He presses his lips together before he makes any soft sounds, little moans and sighs. He's not loud. Yuri doesn't know why he expected the two of them to be loud. Maybe they are sometimes, but not tonight. There's the sounds of skin of skin, odd sucking sounds from Victor here and there, and otherwise it's mostly quiet.

Yuuri lets Victor pull away for a moment to shift his sitting position – there's no carpet in the hall, only bare wood, and Victor's quad-pounded knees probably ache. Even still, he doesn't stop after adjusting his weight off of them. This time, Yuri catches a tiny glimpse of Victor tracing Yuuri's cock with his tongue before he wraps his mouth around it again.

Yuri starts to stroke himself in time with the movements of Victor's head, still over his shorts. He's never seen anything like this before, not in real life; it's dream-like, especially with everything so quiet and lit only by moonlight, except sharper than dreams or his imagination.

Victor keeps working and the heat in Yuri keeps building, until he needs something more. He lets go of the back of the couch, ignoring the ache in his fingers from holding on so tightly, and shoves it up his shirt. The touch makes him want to gasp; he actually bites his tongue this time, but that hurts, so he turns his head and bites his t-shirt instead.

When Yuuri gets close, the only sign of it visible to Yuri is that his eyes squeeze closed and stop fluttering open, and he starts letting more of those short gasps out. Yuri stares at his face, transfixed, until Yuuri's expression pinches and his body shakes, curling over Victor.

The fingers in Victor's hair look painfully tight, but he doesn't make any noise. The only sounds are from Yuuri, still soft. Yuri manages not to add any of his own, even when he pushes his other hand underneath his clothes so he can touch his cock directly.

It feels like a long time before Yuuri lets go and slumps back against the wall. Victor sits back, balancing his weight on a hand, and swallows so deliberately that Yuri can hear it even though he can't really see it. And oh, fuck, that's a hot idea. Yuuri ducks his head, so it's impossible to know how he reacts, but he must like it, too. Victor wouldn't be doing it if he didn't.

Yuuri holds out a hand and helps Victor stand, a little shaky. Victor presses into him, running his hands down Yuuri's sides and rubbing his face into his hair, rubbing his hips against Yuuri.

Yuri wonders what they're going to do next, if Yuuri will return the favor, or get him off with his hand, or shove him down again, this time all the way to the floor, and climb on top of him. If maybe he'll make Victor get himself off while begging soundlessly for his touch or if they'll fuck or, or—

What happens is that Yuuri tugs Victor closes, rocks up on his toes, hugs him, maybe kisses his cheek – and then he takes a step and pulls Victor along. Away from Yuri. Toward their bedroom.

They go, finally, not looking back. Yuri stares after them in disbelief. Did Yuuri's embarrassment finally catch up with him? Did they want to continue somewhere softer than the hardwood? Or did they just fucking forget he was even there and watching them?

He growls to himself and flops down to the couch, but despite his anger, he can't help but replay the scene and think about what they might be doing now as he jerks himself off, and it doesn't take very long to finish.

Afterward, Yuri stares at the ceiling for a few minutes before cleaning himself off with his t-shirt and getting up to stuff it in his bag. There is technically a room that doubles as a guest room, and the bed there is more comfortable than the couch, but he's no longer in the mood to accidentally catch them again, so he lies back down on the sofa and drags up the blanket.

Belatedly, he wonders if he was supposed to follow them. But if so, they should have said something, not ignored him.

He turns over and tries to sleep, though it's difficult. It's not the first time he's gotten off thinking of them, but it's only been his imagination before, not a show. He's pretty sure it's natural to occasionally wonder how they might act if they dragged him into the bed, how they would kiss him, if they would fuck him between them. They're always around him and always affectionate and, he is willing to admit inside his own head, pretty attractive.

Watching is very different from imagining, it turns out, and he can't stop thinking about what they let him see. About why they let him watch, if it was just a thrill, or if they would've stopped if it was any of their other friends instead of Yuri. About why they left and what they did in their bedroom afterward.

~!~

Yuri wakes up annoyed, and checking his phone and finding his timeline covered in photos of JJ's latest charity show doesn't help his mood. He gets dressed and stomps into the kitchen. Cooking and food feels productive, and the groceries aren't covered in JJ's face.

He's pulled almost everything he needs out when Yuuri comes in. Yuri glances at him and feels his face heat, so he turns back to the cabinets, trying to figure out where the hell Victor put his favorite mixing bowl. When he finds it, he has to stretch up to reach it, and by the time he sets it down, Yuuri is standing next to him.

"Are you making curd cheese pancakes?" he asks, looking at the ingredients on the counter. Yuri nods. "Can I help? Victor showed me how to make them."

"He showed you _wrong_. His suck." Yuri knows because he stayed over once four or five years ago, and Victor made them for him. They weren't like his grandpa's at all. Something about the texture. "Here, pay attention."

It doesn't take long to mix the ingredients, and then they fall into a rhythm, Yuuri patting the pancakes into shape in his hands while Yuri fries them. The silence between them is not unusual, but this morning it is deafening, and Yuuri keeps glancing over at him and glancing hastily away until Yuri can't stand it any longer.

"Are we going to fucking talk about it or what?"

Yuuri takes a breath and drops another pancake into the pan. "Yes." He gives Yuri a strained smile. "When Victor wakes up?"

That makes sense. "Okay."

Another minute crawls by. Yuri flips one pancake, transfers the other out. "You seem really upset," Yuuri finally says. "Did you, um, not, uh...."

"Did you forget about me?" Yuri blurts, then snaps his mouth shut, hating the needy, uncertain tone of his voice.

"What? No." Yuuri frowns at him over another pancake. "We, uh, I wanted to go on the bed and... if you'd followed, um, I don't think we would have minded."

"Oh."

"We were kind of distracted."

"Yeah, I noticed."

Yuuri chuckles. It's a lot easier to talk now. They leave the topic be; Yuri rants for a minute about JJ and his stupid events and how it's impossible to block them out even though he's muted his name and everything related to it, and Yuuri nods along.

When the last pancake is ready, Yuuri steps close to him to place it in the pan, and he doesn't step away afterward even though his hands are dirty with flour. He ducks his head and whispers in Yuuri's ear, "Victor had some great suggestions about you last night."

Yuri's cheeks heat again, though this time it's in a good way. "Maybe he should get up so you can tell me about the best ones, then."

If Victor's not up by the time this last pancake is done, Yuri might go and drag him up and into the kitchen himself so they can have whatever talk they're going to have. And then, hopefully, do one of the more interesting things that the low tone of Yuuri's voice is promising him.


End file.
